Carnivale
by AbsolutAnda
Summary: Alex is paired up with an obnoxious, inexperienced American spy who doesn't know just how ugly the spy world is. And to make matters worse, he's been sent back into Italy! How will he cope? No Pairings, as usual. Being Rewritten.
1. Summons

Carnivale

Chapter 1: Summons

Saynt Jimmy

* * *

"_Children are the physical manifestation of evil."_ Jude thought angrily as she shuffled through her house in Brooklyn. Two days before, she had been roped into babysitting a five year old boy named Robbie who had the sniffles. But, as everyone knows, what is merely the sniffles for a small child is a full blown cold for adults that fills your head with snot and dulls your reflexes until you can't move without running into a wall. 

She held a mug of tea in one hand that was decorated in over enthusiastic brightly colored cats and fishes and a box of Kleenex in the other. Behind her was a trail of wadded up tissues leading all around the house, from her room, to the kitchen, to the bathroom and even the basement.

Her knotted brown hair that she hadn't brushed in days was up in a messy bun that kept coming undone and her make up from two days ago was smeared around her eyes, giving her a living dead appearance. She hadn't looked in mirror since she got back from little demonic Robbie's house and didn't plan to until after she was better.

Her green fleece blanket that once belonged to her sister, now in college on the other side of the country, was wrapped around her shoulders, dragging on the ground behind her and catching the occasional Kleenex that didn't make it over Jude's shoulder. A light blue that her friend, Kally, had knit for her for her birthday was wrapped tightly around her neck while her feet were covered in Tweety Bird slippers her mother had bought her when she was seven. Nine years later, they still fit.

Her sweat pants had once belonged to her sister's ex-boyfriend and were worn at the knees. Her sweatshirt still belonged to her sister's fiancée and advertised his high school soccer team.

Jude felt pathetic. The CIA's youngest (not necessarily the best) spy had been reduced to a sniveling snot machine, brought to her demise by the little boy she had read ten stories to at twelve o'clock because he couldn't sleep.

She couldn't breathe through her nose, her forehead felt like it would explode because of the mass amounts of snot packed behind it, her throat hurt and her hands and feet were ice cubes.

And, to make it all worse, she was missing the big fitness test at her school that she had been looking forward to for months. It was yet another event, outside of gym class, for her to show the rest of the school how much better she was than them.

But at the moment, the thought of running track made Jude want to hurl. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball under her blankets and sleep for the next ten years. But she couldn't. Every time she laid down the snot drained from her head and poured from her nose. And she didn't want that all over her pillow. The drool was bad enough.

She settled for watching TV, something she rarely did due to her mother's enforced Be Healthy, Study and Exercise regiment that she had bombed Jude with when she was ten. But her mother was off on a business trip in LA and her father lived in Florida. There was no one there to stop her.

Jude flipped through the channels, ignoring the afternoon kid's shows that killed brain cells faster than oxygen deprivation.

And just when she had gotten comfortable and settled on a show that didn't involve counting to ten or searching for clues, the phone rang. Who had decided it would be a smart idea to put the phone in the kitchen?

She decided to ignore it and let it ring. It rang a few more times before the person on the other end finally gave up. They didn't leave a message. Seconds later, her cell phone began to ring. She was regretting bringing it with her from her room.

She glared at the small phone for a few moments, resisting the urge to throw it across the room before answering it.

"Yello?" She drawled, not being able to speak properly through the phlegm in her throat.

"Jude Harrison?" A familiar voice asked politely.

"Come on, not today! I'm sick! I can't even walk up my stairs!" She whined pathetically.

"Jude, it won't even take an hour, you know how this goes." Janet, Bryce Johnson's secretary replied. Jude had made friends with her after a few days of working at the CIA. Being friends with the Big Cheese's Secretary has it's perks.

"But…but…" She tried to think up another good pitiful excuse but couldn't. "My brain's packed with snot." She whined.

"Oh suck it up and get down here." Janet said unsympathetically.

"I'll give you a decongestant." She bribed in a sing song voice.

"I'll be right there."

* * *

"How's it going under there Alex?" Tom Harris asked cheerfully as he heard another string of profanities come from under the old black '67 Chevy Impala he and Alex were fixing up for their Auto Mechanics class. 

"Just brilliant Tom." Alex replied sarcastically as he wheeled out on the Creeper. There was oil and grease smeared all over his white under shirt and jeans. It was running down his arms, his neck and there were smears on his face. "Now hand me the wrench." He snapped, glaring at his friend through the neon yellow safety glasses they were required to wear.

Tom grinned and lightly tossed him the wrench he had requested. Alex rolled back under the car and Tom heard the clanks of metal against metal.

Alex had never wanted to take this class but Tom had convinced him. _"Come one Alex! This is our last year here and for all we know you could die in some foreign country while trying to expose some corrupted military leader! This could be our last chance!"_ He had cried dramatically at the beginning of the year while they were signing up for classes. Eventually, Alex had given in and agreed to join him. They took the class about fifteen minutes away at an auto repair shop that their teacher owned. They were able to drive their own cars there and while they were working on the old cars, Mr. Lee would work on theirs.

Both he and Alex had decided not to go on to take the A Levels, Tom more interested in Football and Alex, being done with required schooling and achieving a fairly high score on his GCSEs, had been roped into taking on more missions for MI6 and would probably be gone at least once a month.

Tom was planning on joining a football team that he had already been accepted into which would give him a better chance of making a pro team.

In their Auto Mechanics class, the class was divided into pairs. Each pair was given an old, broken down car to restore throughout the year. Tom had practically attacked the Impala. He and Alex were ahead of the rest of the class, despite the fact that Alex was gone a good portion of the year.

The day he turned sixteen, Alex had been given a course in driving by MI6 that not only included driving in England, but also how to drive in almost every other country and what was basically stunt driving incase someone was tailing him. He was given a license a year early instead of at the legal age of seventeen. But he was seventeen now so it didn't matter anymore. They also gave him a course in repairing vehicles incase there was ever something wrong with his car, and hotwiring incase he ever had to "commandeer" a vehicle on the street.

His knowledge of cars had greatly sped up the process of repairing the Impala and they were almost done with a few months to spare.

"Working hard Mr. Harris?" Mr. Lee, their Mechanics teacher asked as he walked over, giving Tom a mock stern look over the rims of his neon yellow safety glasses. Mr. Lee, or just Lee as most student called him, was one of the youngest teachers at Brookland and got along the best with the students in his classes. He had taken a liking to Alex and Tom, respecting both their skills under the hood _and_ their sarcastic attitudes.

"Yes sir, Rider here is doing an excellent job." He wiped his forehead with his hand. "He really tires us out." He heard Alex snort from under the car. The oil filter shot out and bounced along the ground. Alex rolled out.

"Tom, hand me the new oil filter." He ordered. Tom grinned at Mr. Lee and handed Alex the requested part.

"See? He works me so hard." He leaned on the edge of the open hood lazily. Mr. Lee shook his head.

"Keep up the good work Alex. You'll make a good mechanic some day." He said loud enough for Alex to hear then continued on with his rounds, hurrying to the next pair who were attempting to hotwire their car from underneath.

"Okay Tom, put in the new oil." Alex said as he rolled out again and stood. Tom chuckled when he saw Alex's appearance. "Oh shut it. I wouldn't have all this shit on me if you would do some of the work underneath." Tom was scared to be underneath cars but he would never admit it. He made excuses about having to do work under the hood or on the interior. He hadn't been underneath the whole year.

"Well, you keep volunteering, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your joy." He said has he unscrewed a new bottle of oil and poured it into the tank.

"Yeah, joy my ass. I just love having to wash the grease out of my ears every night." Alex said sarcastically as he wiped his hands on a rag.

"You do and you know it." Tom said with a smirk as he poured in another bottle.

* * *

Back inside of the shop, Eric Lee put down his clipboard that had each pair's status written in his sloppy handwriting. Danny and Doug Adams, twins who loved to cause trouble, we good at what they loved. They purposely rewired their car so the controls turned on other operations, turning on the radio started the wipers, the brake was actually the gas, the headlights popped the truck and so on. It was a mistake to let them work together. 

He glanced over to the parking lot where the students parked their cars. Some had Jaguars, some had their parents mini vans. One of his favorites however, was Alex's Black Mitsubishi Evolution. That was one of the cars he most wanted to look at under the hood. But Alex had never mentioned anything wrong with it so he didn't really have an excuse to. He would've asked, but Alex was a pretty secretive kid Eric didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable.

He looked up when two men in dark clothing walked up.

"Can I help you?" He asked politely, discarding his laid back demeanor. These two looked like they were business men of some kind.

"We're looking for Alex Rider." One said, leaning on the counter. He face was friendly but his eyes made Eric want to cringe.

"He's in class right now. There's another thirty minutes left if you'd like to wait." He gestured to the seats against the opposite wall.

"He's missing an appointment. We were sent to get him." The other said seriously, giving Eric a stern glare.

"Right. I'll go get him." Eric said nervously, slowly moving around the desk.

"We'll come with you." The man said. And the two followed him closely out to the yard where ten groups of teenagers worked on old cars. Eric walked slowly, hoping to delay them. He didn't know why, but he got the feeling that these two men had something to do with Alex's many frequent disappearances.

When they reached the Impala, Alex was still under the car, looking for leaks in the oil filter. Tom was screwing on the oil cap and singing something under his breath.

"Alex." Eric said loudly, bending down slightly. Tom turned and saw the men behind him. Eric noticed his face hardened a bit. "There's someone here to see you."

Alex pushed himself out and gave Eric a questioning look. He glanced past him and saw the men behind him.

"Ah, Beavis and Butthead," He quipped as he sat up on the creeper. "Don't tell me I'm late _again_."

"Real funny smartass." One of the men said sarcastically. "Now get off your ass and change. We have to go." Alex stood and wiped his hands on the already dirty rag.

"Sorry Boys, but I didn't bring a change of clothes. So he'll just have to see me like this." He gestured to his oil covered clothes. He took off his safety glasses and put them on the edge of the open hood.

"Bye Tom." He picked up his mobile phone and his wallet off of the stack of tool drawers, put them in his pocket and turned to follow the men to the parking lot. "Bye Lee."

Eric watched them as they left and could vaguely hear one of the men say: _"Hope you like to travel 007."_ He glanced at Tom who had returned to his work under the hood and who seemed to completely forget about the strange men who ran off with Alex.

"Looks like we won't be seeing Alex for a few days." He muttered to himself before catching sight of the Adams twins trying to take out part of the engine as a prank.

* * *

Okay, I wrote this in one day while I was sick…actually that was today. So I didn't go to school. But I will again and probably won't get the next chapter up for a while, I'm estimating maybe another month. I have to take the PSATs tomorrow…ick. I haven't taken the practice tests. I probably should've been doing that instead of writing Alex Rider Fanfiction. 

So yeah, cough hack I'm still sick and sucking down cough drops like candy (they practically are) and swallowing them whole a lot also. That always feels weird…

Let me know about any mistakes, especially you British people, because I'm American and I don't know a thing about anything there. Meh, I tried.

And don't expect the next chapter to be anywhere near as long as this is! I'll never have a day off again!

And yes, I _do_ know that I need to update "Let Me Sleep" but I've had a bit of writers block with that story. But I think I've got a good third chapter in the works. If only the squirrel in my wall named Sydney would let me concentrate. He was actually in my house the other day...and by "in" I mean running through the kitchen.

Drop a line.


	2. And So it Begins

Carnivale

Chapter 2: And So it Begins...

Saynt Jimmy

Jude Harrison sat in the office of Alan Blunt. _The_ Alan Blunt, head of MI6. She had never been so nervous in her life. Not even before her first mission. But she had to admit, as nervous as she was, this was a bit of a let down. She was sitting in one of the two chairs on her side of the desk. Mr. Blunt sat opposite her, reading a file, completely ignoring her existence. Every once in a while he would glance at the clock on his desk, sigh, and then return to the file. He hadn't even looked up when she first entered.

The door opened behind her and she spun around in her seat to see who it was, hopefully someone who would break the tension. A teenage boy walked in, dressed simply in a white under shirt and jeans, covered in grease. Jude couldn't believe he just waltzed in looking like that.

"You're late." Mr. Blunt said, finally looking up from the file.

"_Oh," _Jude thought angrily._ "so he looks up for the grease covered monkey but not the American spy sitting across from him for forty five minutes!" _

"I had class." The boy replied simply and plopped down in the chair next to Jude's.

"I think this is a little more important than…" He glanced at the boy's appearance. "car class. And besides, you've already taken your tests and passed. You don't need classes anymore. This is what you'll be doing until you're twenty one."

"Well _I _still care about school. And you couldn't have waited a few more minutes? You just _had_ to send someone to get me? You know, my classmates think I'm enough of a freak as it is, but now they think I'm in the Mob or something." He snapped angrily, his body tense. Mr. Blunt closed the file and looked Alex in the eyes.

"We couldn't take the chance that you wouldn't come. We need you for this one." He said seriously, folding his hands on the closed folder.

"That's what you always say. But I'm getting older; you're not going to have the age thing going for you for much longer. It's already losing its effectiveness." He snapped back. He was fuming. Jude could practically see the frustration rolling off of him in waves.

Mr. Blunt ignored him. Jude couldn't believe this kid was being so rude to Alan Blunt! Who was he to snap at the man responsible for saving the world so many times? Scorpia, Ark Angel, the man was a legend.

"Alex, this is Jude Harrison. She will be your partner on this case." Mr. Blunt explained, handing Alex a folder. Jude waited for hers but it never came.

"What!?" They both exclaimed as his words sank in.

"Not only am I working with a different agency, but I have to baby-sit a newb?" Jude cried, gesturing to Alex who looked downright offended.

"_Newb?_ I'm not a "newb"!" He argued back then turned to Blunt. "I've never needed a partner before this, why now? I can do fine on my own!" Jude snorted.

"I think that if Mr. Blunt thinks you need someone with more experience to hold your hand, then I agree. But why me?" She asked Blunt. Alex scoffed.

"More experience? And how long have you been doing this?"

"Over a year." She said confidently. She had been recruited right before her fifteenth birthday during fitness week at her school. Men from the CIA had been there, looking for candidates for their teenage spies. They picked Jude.

"A year?" Alex asked, disbelievingly. Jude gave him a smug look. She guessed he'd only been on two or three missions. "Only a year?" Jude frowned.

"_Only? What does he mean "Only"?" _She thought.

"I've been doing this for over three years!" He turned back to Blunt and stared at him pointedly. "_Reluctantly!"_ He added with emphasis.

Jude was about to reply when Blunt interrupted the growing argument.

"Enough!" He said loudly and firmly. He turned to Alex. "_You _will do this mission for us and continue to work for us until you are twenty one, and don't make me send someone to get you ever again." He turned to Jude. "And _you _will respect Alex's level of experience since it is higher than your own and you will listen to him. Remember, this _is_ different from what you do with the CIA." He stood and finally handed Jude a folder. "Mrs. Jones will be in here soon to brief you on the mission and your cover stories. Try not to kill each other in the mean time. We need you both for this one."

He walked around the desk to the door and left, leaving Alex and Jude in an incredibly awkward silence. Alex stood and she watched him carefully as he walked around the desk to the window and stared out at the city.

She studied him carefully. He held himself confidently. She could tell he was tense, like he was waiting for an attack. He had been tense the whole meeting so far. He was going to need some major back massages in the future. His eyes were serious, scanning the rooftops of the shorter buildings surrounding Royal and General. Then he looked up to the tops of the taller buildings. He waved mockingly to someone. It was just then that Jude noticed two snipers on different buildings who waved back. Were they working for MI6? Or was Alex a double agent who wanted to kill Mr. Blunt? Alex's gaze traveled down to the streets where people were going home from work and school. He absent mindedly rubbed his left shoulder and a look of pain flickered across his face.

The door opened and Jude turned to see a woman enter. She assumed she was Mrs. Jones. She wore a pants suit and was sucking on a peppermint, the scent wafting over Jude.

"Good afternoon Alex, Miss Harrison." She greeted as she shut the door behind her. She walked forward and sat in Alex's vacated chair. She handed Jude a folder and set Alex's on Blunt's desk. "I suppose you're both wondering why you've been paired together for this mission."

"You might say that." Jude replied in the most polite voice she could manage. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alex turn from the window and plop down in Blunt's large, grey chair.

She couldn't believe he just sat in the head of MI6's chair! Wasn't that grounds for imprisonment or something? But Mrs. Jones ignored it and handed Alex the folder she had previously set on the desk.

"Now, you two will be disguised as a couple…"

"_Is that the theme from Jaws I hear?"_ Jude thought. She looked over at Alex. His face held a look of horror.

"Alex Evans and Jude Marie, on vacation in Rome and occasionally visiting, I'm incredibly about this Alex, but, Venice."

Jude's eyes flicked over to Alex who seemed to have gone pale, the grease on his face standing out.

"You're sending me to Venice?" He asked disbelievingly. "After everything that happened three years ago? They almost killed me on your doorstep! Literally!"

Mrs. Jones closed her eyes for a moment, calming herself down.

"I'm incredibly sorry about this Alex, but it's unavoidable. Young couples have been disappearing quite frequently around this time every year. As you know, it's during Carnivale." She explained. Jude had no idea what "Carnivale" was, but it probably wasn't going to help the mission. "There's never been any witnesses and even if there were, everyone wears masks. An ID would be impossible." She continued. "And, what's worse for you, Alex, is the disappearances all occurs in the vicinity of The Widow's Palace."

Again, Jude looked over at Alex who was getting paler and madder by the second.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, keeping his voice steady and calm. "Are you _trying_ to give me as much psychological damage as you possibly can before I turn twenty one? I never wanted to go back to Venice after what happened with Scorpia, let alone Widow's Palace with all that happened with Julia Rothman!" Jude was incredibly confused. Maybe she should ask for the file on that particular event.

"Alex," Mrs. Jones said softly. "We aren't doing this on purpose. But we need a couple and the only other spy your age is another girl in Spain."

"Then why can't they pose as lesbians?" Alex asked angrily, purposefully wiping grease from his arm onto Blunt's chair.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Jude snapped. "I bet you get off watching girls make out." Alex turned to look at her.

"I wouldn't be there. I'd be at school. With my friends. Being _normal._" He directed the last sentence at Mrs. Jones who didn't meet his eyes. "I couldn't care less if you're making out with another girl."

Jude almost looked offended for some reason. This kid definately had the American lingo down.

"Yeah right, all normal boys love it. Why wouldn't you? What makes you so different?" She sneered, angry that Alex was acting so "high-n-mighty".

"Could it possibly be the fact that I've been a spy for the last three and a half years of my life? I'm not exactly normal." The two seemed to have completely forgotten Mrs. Jones was in the room as they continued their argument, shouting various insults at each other over the desk (which was the only thing keeping them from attacking the other).

"Alex! Jude!" Mrs. Jones yelled over their steadily escalating voices.

They both stopped and stared at the normally calm and collected woman. Alex had never heard her yell before. "Shut up! Both of you!" She threw a folder in Alex's direction. It landed on the desk in front of him and slid into his lap. "I've had enough. If you want to know more about your mission, it's all in there, because I am _not_ going to stay in the room with you any longer! There's one copy so you'll have to get along to read it. Call if you have any questions." She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The room was silent for a moment then…

"Give me the folder." Jude snapped angrily, wanting to go back to her hotel and get away from this cocky bastard.

"Why should you have it? I need to read it too." Alex said calmly, standing up and gathering the other folders he had been given.

"Because I'm older, give it here." Jude replied hastily, holding out her hand for it. Alex raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"Well let's check who's older shall we? Because I believe I am." He opened a folder that was probably her file and skimmed the contents. "Oh darn, looks like I'm a year older than you. Sorry, it's mine." He closed the folder again and headed towards the door.

"Hey!" Jude yelled, blocking his path. "I think we both know that I play a more important part in this ruse now give it to me."

"And why would that be? And I believe that Blunt told you to listen to me. So _I'll_ read it, and _tell_ you what to do. Good? Great. Let's do lunch." He said sarcastically before pushing past her into the hall.

"Oh no you don't." Jude followed him, not bothering to close the door behind them. "If you're taking it, I'm coming with you. I have to know this stuff too!" She insisted, hurrying to keep up with Alex's long strides towards the elevator.

"Do what you want. I still don't like you." Alex snapped as he pressed the button to take them to the underground car park.

"I hate you too." Jude snapped back, crossing her arms and standing as far from Alex as possible.

The elevator ride was long and awkward. With three stops on the way down, Alex and Jude now had three other agents standing in between them, the only things keeping them from attacking each other. The agents could feel the tension in the air and occasionally glanced in one of the teens' directions, wondering why they were avoiding eye contact and occasionally muttering to themselves.

One agent, a new member espionage line of work, had briefly stopped his scanning of documents to shake Alex's hand and congratulate him on his success in Argentina in exposing a corrupt official near the top of the chain of command.

Jude noted this and it only made her want to hurt Alex more. A cocky bastard who everybody loved.

When the doors opened, Alex was the first out while Jude was last. No one seemed to pay much attention to the lost little American in the back corner of the elevator. When she finally emerged, she noticed that Alex hadn't bothered to wait for her and had continued on to his car, probably hoping to lose her.

"Not gonna happen!" Jude muttered to herself and took off running after Alex who was just disappearing behind a pillar. "Hey!" She yelled, catching up quick. Alex turned, showing no emotion as he watched her skid to a stop a few feet away from him.

"What took you?" He asked casually, making Jude want to sock him in that pretty little nose of his.

"Would it have killed you to wait for me?" She growled.

"Maybe." He pulled a set of keys out of his back pocket and unlocked the black car he was standing next to. "Get in."

* * *

Okay people, when I said "drop a line", I didn't mean literally _one_ line. I want to know what your opinions are! Not just if you liked it or not (Although that is incredibly helpful).

Yes, I know, Alex sounds incredibly American, but in this fic, he's spent a lot of time in the States on missions and has subconsciously picked up the slang and doesn't even know it. Bwahaha!

Yeah...drop more than one lines...

Saynt Jimmy


	3. Numb3rs

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Jude. "Hyocine-Pentothal" is a fictional drug that I also don't own. And CTU is also fictional…and I don't own that either.

Thank you so much for all of the reviews that eventually got me off of my ass and convinced me to write this…in five hours flat.

And a really, really big thank you to Artisian, my brand new beta, who was able to check it over and get it back to me, despite all of our…communication difficulties….

* * *

Carnivale

Chapter 3: Numb3rs

Saynt Jimmy

"They want you to what?" Tom whispered to Alex, careful not to let anyone hear. The two teens were in gym class, standing at the back of the group of students. Today, they were climbing ropes, something Alex was not too happy about. Being incredibly athletic, he had never had any problems in gym class, and training with SAS and MI6 missions had only improved his physical fitness; but ever since his mission in the Philippines, during which he had to climb a vertical rope up a cliff for what seemed like miles to reach a terrorist base, ropes were not one of his favorite things.

"Work with a partner. In Venice." Alex whispered back, keeping an eye on their instructor so they wouldn't get caught chatting. "She's terrible. I'll be surprised if I don't kill myself during this one." He watched two of his classmates slowly make their way to the top. There were two thick ropes hanging from the high ceiling of their gym, one a few meters longer than the other, hung higher on the sloping ceiling. Bright blue mats had been placed under them, as if that would help if a student fell from those heights.

"Why would they send you back there after what happened before?" Tom asked, disbelievingly. "Are they mental?" Alex shot his friend a serious glare. "They blackmailed a fourteen year old school boy into working for them. Of course they're mental." He lowered his voice slightly, not wanting his classmates to hear their conversation. "Harris! Rider! Hit the ropes!" Mr. Knoll, a retired American army general, barked as he helped a struggling and shaking student to the ground. Inside his head, Alex was cursing as loud as his thoughts would allow. 

Reluctantly, the two boys wove through the crowd of students up to the ropes. By a stroke of bad luck that never seemed to run out, Alex found himself at the base of the longer rope. He glared at Tom as he prepared himself to climb. Tom, being the ever sympathetic kind soul he was, shrugged, smirked and then began to climb.

Alex glanced at his 'best mate' than also began his ascent. Mere seconds later, he overtook Tom and was nearly half way to the top. His sore muscles screamed at him to stop, but he kept climbing. In his last mission, only a week and a half ago, he had been sent to Argentina to expose a corrupt government official. It hadn't gone quite as planned and he had ended up being injected with a serum that made all of the body's muscles contract and your nerves to send mixed signals of pain that left you writhing on the floor. Having gone back to school the day after he returned from the hospital, his muscles hadn't had a chance to relax. Even walking was quite painful, but he felt he hid it well.

He could hear his classmate talking to one another about the 'mysterious Alex Rider' who could, apparently, climb ropes like a monkey. He heard Tom muttering under his breath, cursing gravity. He could hear his teacher scribbling notes on his clipboard. He could even hear Matthew Brown, an asthmatic computer nerd that barely got out in the sun, wheezing at the back of the room. But he didn't hear the gym doors opening. He didn't hear the click of heels on the polished wooden floor or the aggressive shuffling of a bitter teenager.

But he did hear the one voice he hated the most at the moment. "Alex Rider?" He froze, almost to the top. He squeezed his eyes closed and muttered a sting of profanities before reluctantly turning his head to look down towards the ground where, not only Mrs. Jones stood, but the devil herself. Jude Harrison glared up at him, arms folded, a deep scowl on her suddenly ugly face. Alex groaned and let his head fall back, feeling his body tip as his balance was thrown off. Christie Kennis, a shy bookworm who seemed to have a crush on Alex, gasped, worried he would fall to his death. If only she knew how many times he himself had found himself with the exact same thought.

"Is that her?" Tom whispered, leaning over so Alex could hear. Luckily they were high enough so no one else could hear the conversation.

"Yeah." Alex muttered darkly. "The manifestation of evil itself." He intentionally avoided making eye contact with anyone of the ground. Tom rolled his eyes.

"She doesn't look that bad. Maybe you just have a _widdle cwush_." He teased in a sing-song voice. Alex shot him down with the most withering glare he had ever used in his life.

I feel nothing but loathing for _it._" He left the topic at that then began his descent as quickly as possible, wanting to get away from his classmates' suspicious scrutiny. He was on the ground in seconds, pushing his way through the crowd; but not before giving Tom's rope a good push, sending his mate spinning in circles.

"Mayday!" Alex heard Tom cry as he shoved his way past the last few students and through the doors to the locker room.

"You two are going to have to learn to get along." Mrs. Jones sighed, slouching slightly in her chair, rubbing her temple. Alex and Jude sat across from her, a couple meters apart, arms folded and anger radiating from both. In the car back to Liverpool Street, Jude had made the mistake of calling Alex "an inexperienced, arrogant, immature asshole who should go back home to his _mummy_". Understandably, Alex didn't take that well and the argument almost escalated to an all out wrestling match on the floor of the black Navigator. The driver, Jake Madison, had threatened to pull over and make them walk. And he would have, had Alex not volunteered to walk on his own.

"Not going to happen." Alex grumbled, shooting Jude a scathing glare. At the same time, Jude scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah right! I'd rather shove needles in my eyes." She crossed her legs and began to repeatedly kick the leg of Mrs. Jones' desk.

Mrs. Jones sighed again and picked up one of the many peppermints that lay in a small pile next to her computer. She unwrapped it quickly and popped it into her mouth. Alex wondered if peppermints had the same effect on her as cigarettes. She tossed the wrapper into the wastebasket by her feet and took a deep breath before continuing. The strong odor of peppermint wafted over Alex, making him want to gag.

"If you two had bothered to read the file I gave you, you will already know that you two are supposed to be a happy, young couple on holiday in Rome. If you can't get along, at least _act_ like you can. You might even have to go as far as to kiss." She held back a smile at the horrified looks on their faces. "Your _single_ room has a _single _bed and you will _both_ use it. I have placed a contact at the hotel and he will inform me if you refuse to act a _happy_ couple.You _must_ look like a real couple, I cannot stress this enough." If she were working with adults, she wouldn't have to give them this lecture. But Alex and Jude were teenagers who let their emotions rule their lives. Alex was getting better about it, but he still had a few outbursts in his recent past, some quite memorable.

"You have _got _to be kidding me!" Jude exclaimed, jumping up from her chair. "I'm _not_ sleeping in the same bed as him!" She pointed violently at Alex, who looked only slightly less furious than she did. Most of the time, he could keep his emotions hidden, a skill he had developed and nearly mastered over the years. "He can sleep on the floor!" She stuck her hip out and crossed her arms again, letting the room know she was serious and was not going to change her mind.

"If anyone is sleeping on the floor, it will be you." Alex shot back, not getting up. Mrs. Jones had an idea as to why. Two weeks ago, Alex had been given another assignment. She had known from the beginning that it was a bad idea to send Alex to Argentina, but, as usual, Alan Blunt had ignored her and packed the boy off. As a result, Alex now had no feeling in a one inch area of his lower spine. It was only the one area, no where else had been permanently affected by the drug they had injected him with. The drug, Hyocine-Pentothal had been stolen from the Americans. It was a neuro-inflamatory, designed to induce pain. It was a combination of Hyoscine and Sodium Pentothal, drugs normally used as "truth serums", but when combined inflicted immense pain.

"No one will be sleeping on the floor!" Mrs. Jones interrupted, slamming her hand down on her desk to quiet the teens. Jude closed her mouth, no doubt she had been about to insult Alex who turned his glare from Jude to Mrs. Jones. "You will both be sleeping on the bed, no exceptions. To keep up the act you have to stay in character all the time. Blowing this cover will mean your lives." She continued once she had their attention. "I don't want to hear anymore on the topic. I brought you here to discuss what's been happening, not to argue about sleeping arrangements." Jude shot Alex one last glare before sitting back down heavily with a frustrated sigh.

"As you know from reading the file," She gave the glowering teens a pointed look which they completely ignored. Jude was staring at her nails and Alex was staring past Mrs. Jones, out the window. "Young couples from wealthy, important families have been disappearing from Venice while on holiday. _Straight_ couples." She added, glancing towards Alex, who ignored her. He had a slightly dazed look on his face as he stared out of the window. It reminded Mrs. Jones of how he looked when he was brought off of the C-130 from Argentina, carried on a stretcher between two US Marines. He had been taken to a hospital in Buenos Aires where a doctor gave him a basic medical exam. When he found nothing apart from a few scratches and the drug in Alex's system, he gave the ok for Alex to be transported back to London for more care. But, not knowing how it would affect the drugs already in the teen's system, the doctor was unable to administer morphine to ease the pain or any kind of sedative to help him sleep through it. So, unable to move without putting himself through immense pain, Alex had spent the flight and the first half of his stay at the hospital staring at the ceiling, unmoving, in too much pain to sleep.

"We've chosen your aliases from families that have agreed to participate." Mrs. Jones continued, shaking off the sinking feeling in her stomach that she got whenever she thought of what she had put Alex through. "Alex, the Evans own a large computer company, Nave, I'm sure you've heard of it." Alex nodded. "And Jude, the Maries control some of the biggest stocks in the US. Both of these families have been given protection while this is happening, as in the past the families of the victims have received ransom demands, vandalisms and even death threats. Local law enforcement has been able to apprehend three of the men who sent these threats but all three used a suicide capsule1 before they could be transported to CTU2 for interrogation." Mrs. Jones tapped her desk to get the their attention again. They looked bored, eyes half lidded and they sat slouched in their stiff leather chairs. This part wasn't in the file and they had to know it.

"The only thing that could be found connecting the three men was that they all were in contact with one Pyotr Fedorov, a retired Russian general who was discharged from the Russian Military for feeding information to a group of Islamic terrorists." She took two copies of a color photo out of a file to her right and pushed them across the desk towards the two spies. They reached forward in unison, picked up one copy each and studied them for a moment. Pyotr Fedorov was in his late fifties with unruly dark grey hair. His beard, the same color, was scraggily and unkempt. His face was severe and scarred and on the right side of his neck was a number, tattooed below his jawbone.

"We're sure he's orchestrating all of this, we just don't have any solid evidence against him or reason for an arrest." Mrs. Jones explained as Alex and Jude examined the photos, both focused on the tattoo.

"172894?" Jude wondered out loud, voicing Alex's thoughts. "What does that mean?"

"We don't know." Mrs. Jones sighed. "The number has been cross referenced with our resources, the Russians' and the Americans'. We haven't found any matches." Jude was studying the number closely, holding the photo centimeters from her face.

"Was he ever in any kind of concentration camp?" She asked after a moment of thought. "Identification tattoos were popular amongst the German Nazis. Was there ever something similar in Russia?"

"No, this looks like he did it himself, or had it done." Alex interrupted, examining his own copy of the photo. "The Nazis put their tattoos on the inner forearm or left breast. Not on their neck. And if he fed information to terrorists he probably would've been put in jail or a military prison, they don't tattoo people there." Mrs. Jones couldn't help but feel proud of the young man in front of her. Alex had grown and learned so much in the last few years without even realizing it. She wondered if his teachers could see it too.

"That's what we figured, but we can't find anything that matches the number." Mrs. Jones explained, glad that the tension in the room had eased slightly.

"What about the first six digits of a social security number?" Jude asked, trying to think of anything involving numbers.

"There's way too many people who have those first six digits." Alex answered before Mrs. Jones could. "No, that's probably the whole number unless someone else has part of it tattooed on their neck."

"But if that's the case, then it could be any number of people with tattoos of numbers." Mrs. Jones replied.

"I'm guessing that it would be a small group, actually." Alex explained. "Large gangs or cells of terrorists don't usually use something so obvious as a marker. That sort of stuff is usually done by gangs on the street who want people to know who they are." Jude shot him a glare as he took the spotlight from her. For a moment there, Mrs. Jones had been listening to her with her full attention and it had been a great feeling. Back with the CIA, they didn't care about her input, they just told her when and where to be and what to listen and watch for.

"And if the men that were apprehended didn't have similar tattoos then either Fedorov has the whole number there, or there's one or two other people with the rest of it. It probably has a personal meaning." Alex concluded, setting the photo back on the desk on top of the file Mrs. Jones had given them the day before.

"Exactly."

It wasn't until fifteen minutes later that they were excused from Mrs. Jones office and sent down to see Smithers for gadgets. After Scorpia and his fifteenth birthday, Alex had been allowed a gun at all times, specially issued by MI6. Since he took down one of the biggest terrorist organizations, Alex had made a name for himself in the criminal world as the person who was wanted dead. MI6 had taken this into account and made sure he had some sort of protection with him at all times. There was a Glock 36 in the glove compartment in his car, a Kahr MK40 in a side pocket of his backpack, another in a holster in the small of his back and a Glock 35 in a drawer next to his bed. While Tom found this exciting and very James Bond-esque, Alex found it annoying that M16 had found more ways to remind him about the ever present threat of death. Jude, being sixteen and still considered a minor in the US, wasn't allowed a gun and stuck to the same type of gadgets that Alex had when he was fourteen. She was given liquid foundation that burned through metal, much like Alex's zit cream from his first mission, eye shadow that could be used to dust for fingerprints, an iPod that scanned for bugs, cameras and could be used to find studs in the wall if you wanted to hang a picture, and a cell phone that doubled as a Taser. They were both given a pair of Microtransmitter Telephones, small, wireless earbuds that picked up vibrations in the ear and jawbone and transmitted their voice clearly without background noise. This way, if they got separated, they could still stay in contact with each other without using cell phones. And with that, they were sent back home for one last good night's sleep, Alex back home to Jack and Jude back to her hotel, before they were hurled into the twisted world of deceit.

* * *

1Suicide Capsule – A small capsule of poison that field agents and military personnel sometimes carry incase they're captured by the enemy. They're used to prevent information from falling into the hands of the enemy. Some terrorists implant the pill under a tooth so they only need to bite down hard. Saxitoxin, the drug most commonly found in the pills, can kill you in 10 seconds. 

2Counter Terrorist Unit, a fictional branch of the US government that tracks terrorists and stops them from attacking the US. It was created for the TV show "24".

* * *

I'm so incredibly sorry that took so long to write and post. I feel bad…is ashamed 

Wow, this was the third version of this chapter I've written. And I did it all in one night and then couldn't post it because the upload thing was messed up.

Please excuse any mistakes and tell about them so I can correct them.

I'll try to write the next chapter soon. I'm on spring break right now (which I'm effin' _geeked _about!!) so I can stay up all night and do what I want…as opposed to staying up late doing homework. Which I'll be doing tomorrow because I'm starting chemistry with some crazy college professor who hates you if you suck in her class. I've only heard bad things about her.

I'm scared.

Well, drop a line, I need to go blow my nose.


	4. Drunken Stupor

First weekend without any homework since September 4 and it rains…all day. Figures today is the day that my mom decides to ban me from the TV and Computer. So, with no other options, I'm forced to retreat to my room with only a glass of water, toast and olive oil…and a dictionary and thesaurus, trying to decipher this idiotic language called English.

Four and a half hours later, I emerge with this scribbled on maybe ten sheets of graph paper with old math homework on the back…and I'm distracted by the Disney Channel.

Seven hours later, I finish typing…

…and I die.

* * *

Carnivale 

Chapter 4: Drunken Stupor

Saynt Jimmy

6/3/07

"God I'm tired!" Jude exclaimed as she collapsed onto the nearby couch. She let herself bounce off of the cushion before flopping over and closing her eyes, leaving her legs dangling over the side. The relief was short lived, however.

Just as she felt herself about to slip off to seep, a loud _thud_ and the sound of something being unzipped made her pry her eyes open again. Alex stood in the middle of the room, rummaging through his "school bag" full of textbooks he had never seen before they arrived at the airport in London.

A man from MI6 had met them in the car park and gave them their school bags and two suitcases to take along with their duffle bags they brought from home.

Unlike Alex, Jude's textbooks were actually hers from school as she still had homework to do. She had gotten most of it done on the plane but still had a six page essay to write on her "hero" for English. Truth be told, she didn't actually have a hero, but she had come up with a list of random people she didn't care about that she could fake admiration of.

"What are you doing?" Jude asked Alex, who didn't look up from his bag as he searched.

"Looking for my address book." He answered as he pulled out his iPod and turned it on. "Mom wanted me to call when we got here to make sure we didn't die." Jude had to admit, she was impressed with his American accent he had suddenly slipped into at the airport in London. He didn't sound any different from someone who had grown up in New York.

"Tell her I say "hi"." Jude mumbled, letting her head fall back down onto the pillow as she played along with his little skit while he scanned the room for bugs.

"We're clear." He announced a few moments later, slipping back into his British accent.

"Well that's good. The less I have to pretend to love you, the better." She replied as she closed her eyes again and shifted until she was comfortable on the couch.

She blocked out the noise Alex was making as he unpacked and felt herself drifting off to sleep again.

Jude jumped as something landed on her, jerking her out of her peaceful rest. She opened her eyes and looked towards the foot of the couch to see something black in a large, clear plastic bag draped over her midsection.

She sat up slowly and held the bag out in front of her, letting it unfold to its proper length.

She stared from the short black dress, apparently fresh off the runway from the looks of it, to Alex who was setting up his laptop on the desk. A sports jacket and tie hung on a clothes hanger in the open closet.

"What's this for?" Jude asked as she stood up and went to hang it in the closet.

"Apparently we have dinner reservations in two and a half hours." He replied as he bent over and typed in a password.

"What?" Jude exclaimed. "But I'm tired and I look like shit!" Alex straightened and turned to face her, a bored, uncaring look on his face.

"Well, you have two hours to make yourself look good. I'm showering first." He brushed past her and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"Why do you get to go first?" She called after him angrily. "I'm a girl! It takes me longer to get ready!"

"Exactly!" He called from behind the door.

* * *

"Spaghetti."

"What?" Alex looked up from his menu and gave her a strange look, his eyebrow quirked.

"I'm going to get Spaghetti and a Diet Coke." Jude announced, closing her menu and laying it down on the table beside her.

"Wait a minute," He sighed, now speaking in an American accent. "You're in Rome, in one of the nicest restaurants in the city, you're not paying for anything and you're ordering _Spaghetti and Diet Coke_, something you can get in one of the shittiest diners in _Detroit_?" Jude glared at him as she pushed her loosely curled hair over her shoulder.

"Yes, I am. I don't like foreign food, have you got a problem with that?" Alex rolled his eyes and went back to searching his menu, looking up every few moments to scan the restaurant for suspicious activity.

Five minutes later, their waiter, Paolo, returned and took their orders, given in flawless Italian by Alex.

"Show off." Jude muttered under her breath as "Paolo" left.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Alex asked in a sarcastic, lovey-dovey tone of voice, fully aware of what she said.

"Just saying how proud I am of you, learning Italian just for this trip." Jude crooned in a sickly sweet voice, her smile not reaching her heavily made up eyes, surrounded in dark eye shadow creating a smoky effect.

"I just wanted to impress you." He replied in a similar voice and a shit-eating smile, covering her hand with his.

Jude had to admit, she was fairly creeped out by Alex's behavior, and, had it been under any other circumstances, she would've slapped him. And, to add to her building hatred, Paolo returned with a bottle of wine, and _not _a Diet Coke.

"You tricky bastard." Jude said in her own "lovey-dovey" voice, a charming smile plastered on her face.

* * *

"Finally! I can go to sleep!" Jude exclaimed as she gingerly walked out of the restaurant, Alex's arm snaked around her waist. Her feet were killing her and she only wanted to get back to the hotel and go to sleep, even if Alex was lying next to her.

Although Alex didn't say anything, Jude could see the exhaustion in his eyes. She had a feeling that he, like she, had spent the majority of last night packing and preparing for the mission. But while her preparation included packing, going over mission files, learning to use her new gadgets and calming her nerves, Alex's preparation was checking his guns, saying goodbye to Jack and Tom, fabricating a believable lie to tell his school (sickness was getting old and unbelievable), making sure his pain medication was full and packing extra magazines of bullets.

A black car pulled up to take them back to their hotel and a man opened the door for them. Jude, needing to sit down, pushed past Alex and started forward, still holding his hand to make it look like a "loveable push".

But before she could get into the car, she heard a pop and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground, Alex on top of her, and everyone around them was screaming and running.

"What the fuck?" She panted, her heart racing in her chest. It took a moment to register that they had just been shot at. Alex looked around as he slowly pushed himself off of her, completely calm while the whole street panicked and ran indoors for cover.

"Stay behind the car and out of sight." Alex ordered quietly as he reached into the small of his back and produced a Kahr MK40. He crouched behind the car and looked out for a moment before ducking back behind the tire as another bullet hit the cement beside him, shattering a brick and throwing pieces into the air.

"Alex – Stop! You're going to get killed!" Jude cried and tried to grab his arm. There was no way she could do this without him!

Alex ignored her and quickly swung around the car, fired two shots then dove back next to Jude as a small rain of bullets shattered the bricks around them.

"Alex! What the hell is going on?" Jude exclaimed, wishing she could be inside with the rest of the street. She succeeded in grabbing his arm this time and kept him from jumping out again.

"They know who we are." Alex answered simply, peeking out over the hood of the car only to duck back when another round was fired. "How do they know who we are?" He muttered angrily to himself. "They shouldn't know!"

There was silence for a few minutes, no one daring to move an inch from fear of getting shot. Alex quickly scanned the crowd gathered at the windows, looking out, trying to see what was happening. They were watching him fearfully, wondering why a teenage boy was shooting at a sniper.

Alex slowly stood, scanning the rooftops across the street. He saw no one and no one fired.

There was silence for another few minutes before people slowly filtered out of the buildings, looking around wide eyed. A few people had tears streaming down their faces as they hugged complete strangers.

"We have to get out of here." Alex ordered, grabbing Jude's wrist as he began to walk down the street. Jude had no choice but to follow behind him, too shocked to do anything else. She had never actually been shot at before, all of her previous missions being smaller scale and, well, less dangerous.

Alex broke out into a run as they heard sirens, not wanting to be interrogated or arrested for firing a side arm in a crowded street. Jude, new to wearing heels found herself stumbling every few steps, her feet crying out in pain, begging her to stop.

It wasn't until five blocks later that Alex stopped and flagged down a taxi.

* * *

In the car back to the hotel, Jude and Alex tried to act as normal as possible, like they hadn't just been shot at multiple times. They cuddled like a real couple would, said all the right things, held hands and placed kisses on each others heads.

But the moment the door to their suite clicked shut, the insults started flying.

"Are you fucking insane? I can't believe you jumped out and started shooting back!" Jude cried as she flopped onto the couch, her adrenaline gone, and tried to unbuckle her heels while her hands shook.

"Well I had to do _something_, they were after _us_." He countered, angrily undoing his tie. He balled it up and threw it across the room as if it would make him feel better.

"But what if you _died_?! I can't do this alone! I don't even know Italian!" Jude yelled back then remembered what else she was mad about. "And back at the restaurant! What was that? I asked for _Diet Coke_!"

Alex gaped at her like she had grown a second head.

"We were just _shot_ at and you're complaining about a _soda_?!" He shucked his sports jacket tossed it over the back of a chair. "How thick can you be?"

"I'm just saying, if you want to work together, you're going to have to start respecting my decisions."

She stated, undoing her other shoe. Alex rubbed his temples like he had a headache and closed his eyes for a few moments, probably counting to ten to calm himself down.

"It was a _soda_. I was doing what every other couple in Rome does. I can't believe you would put up that much of a fuss about it. We have to look like any other couple, not spies who hate each other!"

"Alex, if you want that to happen, you have to listen to what I say, not dismiss it and do your own thing. You're not in charge!" She stood up to face him, fully aware of the fact that she was a few inches shorter than him.

"Well I couldn't exactly explain it in the middle of a crowded restaurant where anyone could be listening. And whether you like it of not, you're going to have to do things you don't want to do to get through this." He kicked off his shoes then looked up at her. "So get over it." He added as he turned to go into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him with a little more force than necessary.

"I hate you!" Jude cried, loud enough for Alex to hear clearly but not for anyone else in the hotel to get suspicious. "You think you're so much better than me, but you're not!" Jude lost it and threw her black high heel at the door. She saw him open the door a fraction of a second too late to stop herself.

The heel hit the door, now at an angle, bounced off and clipped Alex across the forehead, leaving a small cut.

He put his hand to the cut and glared at Jude.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for?" He demanded, bending down and picking up the fallen shoe.

"God! You piss me off so much!" Jude cried in frustration, snatching the shoe from his hand and the other from the coffee table. "_Don't_ follow me!" She ordered then yanked open the door and stormed out, leaving the door open wide.

"Jude!" Alex yelled after her from the doorway. He groaned and took his hand away from his new cut. There was blood on his palm. It was then he noticed an Asian couple standing at the door to their room across the ornate hall.

"Don't worry," the woman said with a large smile on her face. "If she love you, she come back, eh?"

Alex glared at the couple for a few seconds before stomping back into the suite with a cry of frustration.

* * *

"Jude!" She heard Alex call after her as she stormed to the elevator. Screw Alan Blunt and his "listen to Alex" policy, she needed to get away from the guy! She didn't know where she was going; she just needed to get away.

* * *

"I hate that guy!" Jude exclaimed as she threw herself onto a stool in the nearby bar. She couldn't believe that Alex was such an ass! How could someone so good looking be so frustrating? When he had first walked into Mr. Blunt's office, she had thought that maybe she had found someone she could actually be friends with, and maybe even more. But then he had talked. And that whole fantasy had gone out the window.

"Trouble in paradise?" Someone asked. Jude looked up to see the bartender, cleaning a glass, looking interested and sympathetic. Her name tag said Casey and she was very pretty. Her eyes had dark make up around them, creating the Smokey effect. Her brown hair was in loose curls, cascading over her shoulders and down past her chest. She had a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, the current style in Germany, Jude thought. She remembered that all of the students in her class who went to Germany often came back with scarves wrapped around their neck and wore them almost everyday.

"It was never paradise. He is _such _an ass!" She exclaimed, hitting the bar for emphasis. Casey put the glass she had been cleaning in front of Jude and poured something in it. At the moment, Jude didn't really care what it was.

"Then why are you with him?" Casey asked, throwing a maraschino cherry into the mix and leaning forward, getting comfortable for a rant.

"I don't want to be!" Jude snapped. "Our parents arranged it." She quickly pulled out of the air. Eh, it might work. "He's such an ass, I can't believe his parents have kept him this long! I'd have chucked him out the door to boarding school if I were them!" She vented, downing half of the glass in one gulp. She winced as the alcohol burned her throat.

"I didn't know they still did that." Casey said, looked slightly surprised at the arranged marriage.

"Me neither, until it happened to me. Why me? Why not the bitch that lives down the street? They'd go perfectly together!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Stupid bitch Alex." She muttered.

"Alex?" Casey asked with interest. "I knew a guy named Alex once…he was a real ass. I guess it just goes with the name." She pondered. Jude laughed and held out her hand.

"I'm Jude." Casey shook it and pointed to her name tag.

"I'm Casey, as you can see clearly."

"Are you American?" Casey nodded. "I'm surprised it's so easy for you to get a job here. Do you know Italian?"

"Only a little. I've only been here a few weeks so far. But there're so many American tourists, couples and businessmen in here and the Italian employees could never understand their drunken demands. The man practically begged me to work here." Jude nodded thoughtfully.

"Guys suck. I _should've_ done the lesbian thing, even if I don't know the girl. But then I didn't know Alex either." She muttered to herself. Casey looked at her strangely.

"What are you talking about? Lesbians?" Jude studied her carefully for a few moments. Casey looked slightly uncomfortable under her gaze.

"I'm going to tell you a secret. A really dirty secret." Jude decided. She knew the alcohol was starting to get to her but she didn't really care. If she could forget about the asshole known as Alex Rider for an hour before she had to go back and sleep in the same bed, it didn't really matter to her that her judgment was impaired.

Casey leaned forward. "I hear lots of secrets. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." She whispered.

"What would you think if I told you that me and Alex are actually spies here to uncover the truth behind the mysterious disappearances of the couples in Venice?" She asked completely seriously, looking Casey directly in the eyes.

"I would think you were crazy." Casey laughed and sat back on her stool. Jude sighed.

"Yeah, me too. I think I'm just drunk." She said decidedly.

* * *

It wasn't until hours later that Jude stumbled back into her hotel room at three in the morning. She had drank herself to near unconsciousness while chatting happily with Casey, who had kindly (and soberly) walked her back to her room, keeping her upright and awake after she puked on the street.

"Adios, Case!" She called in a loud whisper as the bartender turned to leave again. Casey waved, held her finger to her lips then continued to the elevator. "Gotcha! Keep it on the DL!" Jude called in the same voice with an exaggerated wink before attempting to swipe her key card in the door. She missed the slot a few times before finally getting the green light.

The room was dark, Alex was probably already asleep. And, had Jude been sober, she would've remembered where all the furniture was and carefully navigated towards the bed without turning on the light. But, being as drunk as she was, she forgot about the furniture and walked straight into the coffee table in the middle of the room. She hit her knees on the edge and fell forward, knocking over a glass of water that hit a plate then fell to the floor and shattered.

Jude stumbled around the other side of the table, staying away from the glass shards, and tripped over her luggage that she hadn't put away earlier. She went flying into a lamp that stood next to the couch, sending it crashing to the ground, luckily it didn't break.

The light clicked on and Jude blinked in the sudden brightness of the room.

"What the hell?" Alex muttered as he sat up sleepily, eyes clamped shut against the light. Jude looked up and giggled.

"Oops!" She laughed, trying to pull herself up with help from the couch. Alex swung his legs over the edge of the bed and hurried over, side stepping the broken glass. He grasped her arm and helped Jude up, simultaneously checking for injuries. After seeing that she had none, he led her to the couch and gently pushed her down. Then he turned, picked up the lamp, the plate and began to clean the broken glass, not saying a word.

Jude could tell he was furious, but it didn't quite register. She watched him in silence, her eyes following his movements. His jaw was set and he was avoiding looking directly at Jude, focused completely on his task.

Starting to feel a little guilty, Jude began to play with her necklace, twirling it between her fingers clumsily like a small child. She kept her eyes focused on the beads, scared that if she looked up, Alex would acknowledge her presence and yell at her.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that she finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes. But when she looked up, he was gone. She scanned the room, trying to see where he went to. She didn't like not being able to see him when he was mad. He knew how to kill, and that made her uncomfortable.

"Alex?" She called timidly, standing and stumbling into the bedroom. He was standing, facing the fall, leaned forward, his forehead resting against the cool surface. He didn't look up when she entered. "Alex?" She asked much quieter. "Are you mad?" Normally she wouldn't have cared. But now that she was drunk, she was feeling incredibly guilty.

He let out a frustrated breath and waited a moment before turning to look at her.

"We're on an assignment." He stated coldly, his intense brown eyes boring into Jude's. "People are dying, the enemy knows we're here and after them, someone just shot at us today and you're getting _drunk_?" He voice was steadily getting louder. "Are you_ fucking_ _mental?!_' He cried.

Jude flinched. She'd never seen him this angry and for a teenager, he was pretty frightening. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She slurred, subdued.

"Whether you meant to or not doesn't make a difference." Alex continued, slightly quieter. "What if someone had seen you? Or knew who and what you are? They could've grabbed you right there, taken you out back and shot you!" He was speaking like he was American but his accent was coming through even more that usual. He sighed and ran his hand over his face. He looked really tired. "You know what? You aren't going to remember any of this tomorrow, just go to bed." He turned, rubbing his temple like he had a headache, and trudged back to bed.

It shocked Jude how much he sounded like an adult. He wasn't like any other seventeen year old boy she had ever met. Other boys went to parties, blew off homework, chased girls and wasted their lives. But Alex was responsible; he was serious and didn't let those he was with mess things up. She wondered if he was only like that on missions or if he was like that at school too.

She found herself watching him and he climbed back into his side of the bed and pulled the thick blankets over him. He rolled over and turned his back to her.

Jude waited a few seconds before starting the near impossible task of changing into her pajamas. She kept stumbling into the walls and getting tangled in her shirts.

Nearly five minutes later, she was finally changed. She decided against brushing her teeth and wandered to her own side of the bed. She turned off the light then lay down. She sighed, dreading her imminent hangover and lecture from Alex.

* * *

Alex had been right the night before. Jude didn't remember anything. All that happened after she met Casey was completely gone and in its place was a massive hangover. After throwing up twice at six in the morning, Jude crawled back to bed and curled up under the blankets, vaguely aware of Alex lying next to her, sound asleep. His breathing was even, slow and sounded peaceful.

Jude wanted to kick him.

How dare he sleep peacefully while she writhed in pain, unable to move without puking? Had it not involved moving, Jude really would have kicked him.

As she had this thought, Alex groaned and turned over so he was facing her. She stared at him in the dark, wondering, _hoping_ he would wake up so she would have someone to complain to. Of course, he didn't. He mumbled something that sounded like a different language then fell quiet again.

"Oh fuck you, Rider." Jude groaned quietly as her stomach made itself known with a violent flip of its contents.

* * *

Okay, let me know of any mistakes that are left. 

I barely survived the Chemistry class with crazy college professor (who apparently is retiring after teaching my class….) and then had a nice easy class of…Projective Geometry….where parallel lines meet an infinity (what complete bullshit).

Anyway.

Drop a line.


	5. Suits

EXCUSES: Well, I have a whole pile of excuses for not updating

I'm SO sorry it took me so long to write this! It's almost been a year! (And by "almost" I mean two months short). I really do feel terrible, but life got in the way. I've been thinking about this story almost constantly, but I just haven't had the time to sit down and write it all. And right now, my mom is in her "get a damn job" mode and has me running all over town asking about jobs for this summer. I hate being broke…

Oh yeah, it's been brought to my attention that Jude Harrison is actually the name of the main character in Instant Star, a Canadian teen drama. I'd only seen it once and thought Jude was a cool name, but I guess the name stuck with me. It wasn't intentional. But, just to see whose name I was stealing, I watched a few episodes of Instant Star…and now I'm hooked! And I'm in love with Speed! And I want to strangle Tommy.

Oh! And everyone thank ThJaFl _right now_! Because without her, I would never have updated anything…ever. This is who I've been bouncing ideas around with and who has suffered through all of my lame ideas, replacing them with _better_ ideas that actually move the story forward…she's become a sort of co-author…she's the one who's keeping this story going… So, lets raise our glasses and give a round of applause to…ThJaFl!! claps enthusiastically

…no seriously. Bow down to her. _Do it!_

Well, I just got back from my trip to Italy with my class a few weeks ago. And let me tell you, it was amazing. I want to go back so bad! Thinking back on when I first started this story, I probably should've waited to post it until I'd actually been to Italy (and I probably should've had the whole thing planned out too…) But, now I've been to Italy (Rome, Florence and Venice) so hopefully I'll know what the hell I'm writing about now. At first, I was planning on specifying which hotel Alex and Jude were staying at, but in the end I decided to just leave it open because I felt I didn't actually know Rome enough and I didn't want to describe it all from a hotel brochure online. But, while in Rome, we were walking back from the Pantheon, I look up and right there, staring me in the face, is a big building with "Minerva" written in silver letters on the front and big revolving doors…it was the hotel I was planning on having them stay at! So now I'm putting it in because, even though I didn't go inside, I have some idea about the location.

As usual, I own nothing…not even the tea I'm drinking.

* * *

It took another hour for Jude to finally drift off to sleep only to be woken a few minutes later by someone speaking Spanish. At first, she panicked, not knowing who in Italy, in their hotel room, would be speaking Spanish. Naturally, she assumed it was an intruder; an assassin come to kill her, smother her with her pillow in her sleep.

She shot up, her arms raised in a defensive position, ignoring the violent flip of her stomach. She strained her eyes, trying to see in the darkened room. Her heart was racing as every shadow cast seemed to take on the shape of a large, Hulk-sized thug with a shotgun pointed directly at her.

It took a moment for her to pick out the real danger. The large man was dressed completely in black, but standing against a white wall, completely still. His shoulders almost reached the top of the door frame and his body didn't seem to have a distinct shape; his muscle mass was so great that he looked like a giant block. He must've seen that Jude was awake and vigil because he suddenly stopped speaking and stood quietly. She didn't see any form of a shotgun, but perhaps he was more a fan of knives.

She shifted her gaze towards Alex who was fast asleep, completely unaware of the danger. He was curled up on his side on the edge of the bed, his back facing her and three feet of empty space between the two teens. The large gap hadn't been intentional, but the hatred each felt for the other made it happen naturally. Jude decided that waking him would be too obvious and attract unwanted attention. He would probably be groggy and no help in the upcoming fight for their lives. So, it was all up to her to save them. She was suddenly excited at the thought of rubbing it in the arrogant asshole's face the next morning; that she had been fighting for both their lives while he slept on, sucking his thumb.

Jude silently rolled out of bed and landed on the carpeted floor noiselessly, thankful for all of those years of Karate her father had made her take for protection. The alcohol had mostly made its way out of her system, allowing her to see relatively clearly as she crept along the ground, keeping her eyes on the large Hulk who hadn't moved. She wondered if he knew she wasn't in the bed anymore. She reached under the closest chair at the window. Alex had strapped two knives to the bottom in case something like this happened. But he was careful to remove them every time they left should someone break in and search the place. They couldn't leave any evidence that there were two highly trained spies occupying the room. She slid one of the knives off of the magnet holding it on and gripped it in her fist as she crept towards the hulking man who still hadn't moved. Was he stupid? Shouldn't someone like that be trained in fighting? Wouldn't he rather just rush her and try to take her by force than wait for her to come to him?

The thought was pushed from her mind as she neared him, crouched behind the large couch. She took a silent deep breath then, without any warning or shout, lunged forward, plunging the knife into the man's stomach.

She'd never stabbed someone before, but she had always thought it would sound different, like a squishing sound rather than a dull thud. Slightly confused, she reached out one hand and touched the man's chest, only to find it very cold, flat and hard…and plastic? She ran her hand all over the strange man, only to find he was flat and plastic all over and swung from side to side slightly. It was then that he international super spy realized she hadn't stabbed an intruder, but Alex's suit for the next night out to dinner that hung on the wall.

Feeling incredibly stupid, she tugged the knife out of the wall, hoping it hadn't left a large hole. She quietly placed it on the coffee table, glancing over at Alex who still slept on, completely undisturbed by Jude's attack on his formal wear. Trying to slow her thudding heart, Jude approached the suit once more, sealed up in its black hang-up bag from the flight, and unzipped it slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. She felt the suit inside, running her hands over the fabric of the midsection until she found it; blatantly obvious. A hole that went through the jacket, the dress shirt, the fabric of the back of the jacket and well into the wall of the antique building in the middle of Rome.

Her face flushing and her heart beating twice as fast, Jude zipped the hang-up bag once again and, feeling completely foolish, let herself fall forward into the wall, welcoming the dull pain in her forehead as it connected with the ancient plaster. And then she heard it again. That damned Spanish, now mixed with English. But it was coming from the bed she had just left. And then it hit her.

It was Alex! He was talking in his sleep!

Suddenly overcome with rage, embarrassment and downright anger, she stalked over to the bed, not caring how loud she was. She stepped up onto her side of the bed and crossed her arms angrily, glaring down at her fellow "spy". What kind of spy talked in his sleep? She hoped he would wake up, slowly turn his head and see her, glowering down at him. But he didn't stir, simply rolled towards her slightly as her weight made the bed dip towards her feet. His lack of reaction just made her madder and, suddenly not caring whether he got hurt or not, she kicked out, hitting him in his shoulder with the ball of her foot and sending him flying off of the bed with a yelp of pain and surprise.

She smiled with satisfaction as he hit the floor with a dull thud then groaned as he slowly rolled onto his stomach.

"Bloody hell, Jude! What was that?" He demanded, his accent shining through in all its glory. He pushed himself up and kneeled for a few minutes, rubbing the area in his shoulder with his other hand where Jude had made contact. He glared up at the girl towering above him, who shrugged innocently.

"Gee, sorry, Alex. You were talking so loud I thought you were an intruder." She explained in a sickly sweet voice, dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe you should fix your little sleeping problem." She let herself fall down into a sitting position, bouncing on the thick mattress. She watched Alex's silhouette as he slowly pulled himself back onto the bed, still holding his shoulder with one hand. He was glaring at her whenever his eyes weren't shut tightly in pain.

"What sleeping problem?" He growled as he finally straightened his back, biting his lip against the pain. Jude didn't know, but she had hit him where his muscles were still sensitive from the torture he had undergone a mere two weeks ago in Argentina. She didn't seem to notice just how much that had hurt and Alex wanted to keep it that way. She didn't need anything else to hold against him.

"Oh, I don't know," She sang almost innocently, picking at her nails in the dark. "The whole _talking_ one!" She finished loudly, as if it were completely obvious.

"I _don't _talk in my sleep." Alex stated darkly as he let himself flop stiffly onto the bed, groaning quietly.

"Tell that to your suit." Jude muttered angrily, still feeling incredibly stupid. Alex didn't seem to hear and she decided that it should stay that way. Telling him that she stabbed his suit accidentally would lead to the story of her "intruder", making her look, and feel, incredibly foolish. And she didn't need to feed Alex's ego anymore than it already ate. If his head got any bigger, it would explode. _But then,_ she thought,_ maybe that wouldn't be so bad…_

It wasn't until eleven that Jude woke up enough to actually get out of bed, and the normally simple task had somehow become near impossible. She took her time sitting up, wasting a full five minutes on that action alone. She didn't even bother to count how long it took to stand, but FYI, it took nearly ten minutes. She shuffled through the suite, wandering aimlessly until she found Alex, sitting on the couch with his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. His hair was still wet from a shower and he was in the middle of eating breakfast, a plate of eggs and sausage sitting beside his computer. He was typing something, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he stared intently at the screen. He looked up when Jude entered and he couldn't keep a look of shock and horror from flashing across his face.

When Jude had gone to bed upon her return from the bar with Casey, she had looked pretty good. Her hair and makeup was still done from dinner earlier that evening and although her eyeliner had smudged slightly, it wasn't nearly this bad. Her hair had tangled during the night, forming one big knot that wrapped around her head, bobby pins from the previous night sticking out at odd angles. Her make up had smeared across her face, around her eyes and some even on her nose. She wouldn't have been out of place in the roof-top dance in Mary Poppins. Her tank top was hanging off of one shoulder, half pulled down and revealing a neon green bra underneath, but she didn't seem to care or even notice. And to top it all off, a small stream of snot trailed down from her nose, gathering on her upper lip. It would seem that her nasty cold had slaughtered the Dayquil she had taken yesterday.

She sniffed loudly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, smearing the small mess across her face, then scratched her head as she yawned widely.

Alex paused, his glass of orange juice halfway to his lips as he stared at his partner who usually appeared so together, like her outfits had been meticulously planned, even if they didn't always match. He wasn't quite sure how to proceed. Did he ignore her appearance? Comment on it? Suggest a shower?

"You've got a little something…" Alex settled with, gesturing to the side of his face, hoping Jude would wipe the snot away. He was expecting an explosion of anger and threats against his life, but instead all he got was a wince as Jude put her hand to her forehead.

"I'm standing right here, there's no need to scream at me." She mumbled as she wandered towards the kitchenette, unsteady on her feet. Though Jude had a ridiculously large collection of heels back at home, she had never actually worn them for more than two or three hours at a time, usually sitting down during a fancy dinner. Suddenly having to wear some of the biggest heels she had ever seen for a good five hours had seriously hurt her feet. They felt bruised and it hurt to walk.

"There's some breakfast for you over there." Alex pointed out, not bothering to lower his voice in the least. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards a covered plate on the counter with a pitcher of orange juice and a pot of coffee sitting next to it. Jude glared at him and stuck up her middle finger with a flourish as his loud, echoing voice bounced around her head, increasing her headache by at least five times. She slowly poured herself a glass of orange juice, careful to not let the glasses clink together from fear of more pain. She uncovered her plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, fresh fruit, a bagel and a small bowl of yogurt and carried it over to where Alex was sitting, pushing his half-finished plate of breakfast away from him to make room for hers.

"Excuse you." He muttered as he glared at her, reaching over her arms to pick up his plate and move it to the other side of his laptop.

"What did I say about yelling?" She demanded, angrily ripping off a bite of bacon with her teeth. "What are you working on anyway?" She asked, still chewing, bits of bacon flying from her open mouth. Alex sighed, picking up his napkin and wiping the screen of his computer and the keyboard. Jude leaned in, staring at the screen, squinting against the light. She looked like she was trying really hard to read the text on the screen, but didn't seem to be comprehending any of it.

"Homework." He answered shortly as he typed the last sentence of his English essay he had written in the last few hours as he waited for Jude to wake up so they could continue with the case; but judging by her current state, they weren't going to get any work done. It was going to take at least half an hour to get a brush through Jude's hair.

He triumphantly saved the document and prepared to send it to Tom so he could print it back in England and give it to Alex's teacher the next day. This was the only way Alex had found to keep up with his work while out of school, especially since his teachers had decided to pile on his work. The faculty seemed to be testing the theory that if Alex had more work and responsibilities, he would come to school more often and get his work in on time. Jack had pleaded with them to reconsider and just let Alex be –feeding them an approved-by-MI6 lie—but they didn't listen, insisting that this would benefit Alex in the long run and help him succeed in school, thus opening many career options. Alex entertained himself by imagining his teachers' faces when he revealed what he'd actually been doing all this time.

Jude leaned in farther, her face inches from Alex's. He looked a little disgusted. "Homework for what? I thought _Mister Hotshot Super-spy _would be above doing homework." She growled sarcastically before taking an aggressive bite of her bagel. Through her snot-induced haze, Jude could vaguely remember something about having to write a paper for English that had to be done by the time she returned to school, but she immediately forgot about it when Alex responded rather hotly.

"Could you _please_ wipe your nose?" He exclaimed as he leaned back to avoid her, but he wasn't quite fast enough.

"Sure." She shrugged, grabbing Alex's sleeve and quickly scrubbing her face with it. It took Alex a moment to realize exactly what was happening. After all, it wasn't everyday that a partially-educated young woman wiped her nose on your shirt sleeve. When his mind finally comprehended what she was doing, he lunged back from her, almost dropping off the side of the couch as he scrambled to wipe the mess off of his sleeve with a napkin.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" He exclaimed as he tossed the napkin back onto the coffee table, realizing he was going to have to have the shirt dry cleaned if he ever wanted to wear it again.

Jude just blinked sleepily, watching him silently as he left the room, pulling his shirt up over his head as he walked.

"Well, you said to wipe my nose!" She called after him with a grin. "You never said _what_ to wipe it with."

Her only response was Alex's frustrated cry as he grabbed another shirt out of his suitcase.

"Are you finally sober?" Alex growled as Jude lazily strolled out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a ridiculously soft hotel towel. He had his back to her as he continued to work on his laptop, probably doing more homework or something of the sort. She scowled at his back and stuck out her tongue. "Think you took long enough in there?" He continued, completely oblivious to the series of rude gestures Jude was sending in his direction as she tried to restrain herself from punching her "boyfriend" in the back of the head.

"It's not my fault," She protested. "I practically got _lost_ in there!" Which wasn't much of an exaggeration as to the size of the bathroom. It was bigger than her _bedroom_ at home, complete with a jacuzzi bathtub that could rival a small pool. A long counter ran along one wall with two large, ornate mirrors hanging over it. "You think they'd be mad if I boosted the Shampoo?" She muttered more to herself than Alex as she brushed out her damp hair, totally oblivious to the water droplets flying all over. Alex ignored her comment as he glanced over his shoulder at her then turned back to his computer, using his sleeve to wipe the water splatters off of the screen.

"Just get dressed so we can go eat lunch."

It wasn't until an hour later that Jude and Alex actually left their hotel room, much to Jude's disappointment. She'd much rather have just stayed put and watched some Italian music videos but Alex insisted they go to the restaurant across the Piazza della Minerva, just outside the hotel. Even though they had walked through the same area the evening before, Jude had been too jetlagged and tired to really pay attention to anything around her.

Just outside the hotel was Piazza della Minerva, to the right, Basilica di Santa Maria sopra Minerva, _The Church of Saint Mary over Minerva._ It got its name for the temple to Minerva it was built over.To the left, a nice, low key restaurant where they were going to go eat. In the centre of the piazza, there was a statue of an elephant on a pedestal, the _Pulcino della Minerva_. On the elephant's back was an obelisk and at the top, a cross. Above the surrounding buildings, the dome of the Pantheon could be seen.

"Okay," Alex said as they left the revolving doors of their hotel, _Grand Hotel de la Minerva_. It was a fairly warm day and very sunny, which was a welcome change from the grey, chilly sky yesterday. The nice weather was a surprise to Jude, as she had just left New York where it had been cold, grey and snowing. It seemed the whole city was taking advantage of the weather as the piazza was swarming with people, mostly tourists wanting to get into the Basilica di Santa Maria and see Michelangelo's statue of _Christ the Redeemer_ that was kept inside. But, mixed in with the crowd were native Romans trying to go about their daily routines. In the neighboring piazza, Jude could just barely hear peddlers using children's toys that made noise to get the attention of tourists, hoping to sell their worthless products. "We'll just eat then go back to the room and read over the files Jones sent over." He held out his arm to Jude as they slipped back into their cover flawlessly.

"Can't we just read them when we actually get to Venice?" Jude whined, slipping on her MI6 provided, designer sunglasses to block the bright sunlight, even though it was only a one minute walk to the restaurant. She leaned heavily on Alex's arm to emphasize her whining. "I _really _don't want to do anything today!"

"No, we can't." He replied as if he were talking to a child. "We can't take those files to Venice with us. We shouldn't have even brought them _here._"

Jude sighed heavily, leaning on Alex even more as she seemed to wilt slightly. "Fine, but I'm ordering my own food this time! Even if they _don't_ speak English!"

Alex just shrugged his left shoulder that Jude wasn't leaning on. "I don't think that will be a problem." Then he added with a smirk, "Pretty much everyone in Italy speaks English fluently."

Jude stopped walking abruptly, jerking Alex back by his arm that was still looped around Jude's. "Are you kidding me?" She growled, not loud enough to make a scene but it got the point across that she was mad. "I could've ordered for myself last night?"

Alex rolled his eyes and shifted his weight. It looked like they could be standing there a while. "Are you still on about that?"

"Yes." Jude just barely resisted stomping her foot and crossing her arms like a child. "It really pissed me off!" She hissed, then quickly started walking again, again jerking Alex off balance as she stomped towards the restaurant.

Much to Jude's delight, their waiter did, in fact, speak English fluently and quickly brought her the correct order of Lasagna and Coke Light. Every once in a while, Alex would look up at her happily gulping down her Coke, roll his eyes, then go back to eating his Risotto, which Jude refused to try due to the fact that it contained mushrooms. He also got "l'acqua frizzante", just plain, flavorless, unsweetened, sparkling water.

Their meal was filled with deceptively relaxed conversation that, to anyone passing by, could easily be mistaken for two teens in love. In reality, it was the most awkward conversation Jude had ever had in her life. Having a normal chat with Alex was comparable to having a root canal. Every other response was some snide comment to answer whatever insult Jude had thrown at him just milliseconds before. Other English-speaking tourists occasionally stared at the couple, slightly disturbed by their hurtful banter, but just wrote it off to a lovers' quarrel. Luckily, the table cloth was fairly long so no one could see them kicking each other under the table whenever one pissed off the other –which was fairly often.

As soon as they left the restaurant, Jude demanded Gelato, mostly just to postpone the torture of reading case files for hours on end, trapped in their stuffy hotel room. So Alex, keeping up his cover of a loving boyfriend, took her past the Pantheon –promising to actually go inside another day—and across the piazza to a small but crowded Gelateria. After Gelato, Alex practically dragged Jude back across the piazza towards the hotel, having to tear her away from a large group of Italian teenage boys who were sitting on the steps of the fountain after school eating McDonalds and were acting extremely _friendly_ towards Jude, despite the fact that she was practically hanging off of Alex.

"But Alex," Jude whined as she shuffled after Alex who held her hand loosely in his. "They seemed so nice and friendly!" She took a few quick steps to catch up with him –thankful she chose to wear flats instead of heels—so he wasn't dragging her behind him. "…and _hot!_" She added under her breath as an afterthought. If Alex heard, he chose not to comment as he gently pulled Jude in between two parked cars on the narrow road to get out of the way of a car slowly trying to get through the mass of people. Tourists often forgot that Rome was, in fact, a fully modern, functioning city that actually did have cars and Vespas, usually with a terrible driver behind the wheel.

"Jude!" The two spies both turned in unison towards the voice and instantly picked out a woman with brown loose curls out of the large crowd. She was running towards them, waving her arm to get their attention while trying to keep her large shoulder bag from falling with her other hand. She stopped for a moment as the car moved towards her, pressing into a small group of tourists –all with yellow baseball caps so their guide could keep track of them—to make room for the vehicle then continued towards the spies with the same enthusiasm.

"Do you know her?" Alex asked quietly and Jude could feel him tensing, getting ready to run if necessary. She also noticed his right hand inching towards small of his back where she knew he kept a small handgun. Whenever her arm brushed against it, she got shivers up her spine. It seemed as though the CIA was a bit stricter when it came to giving firearms to minors.

"Um…" Jude racked her brain, trying to place a name to the face of the woman. She could vaguely remember her, but she just couldn't quite think of the name. "I think so?" She guessed, more to herself than Alex. She let go of Alex's hand and rested her chin in her palm, thinking hard about the previous night. She could really only remember snippets of what happened. She remembered walking down a street full of cafes and going into a bar, sitting down on a stool and ranting about Alex to someone…but who?

"Casey!" She exclaimed suddenly, slapping her own cheek slightly before realizing that Casey was standing right in front of her. "Hi!" She continued in the same manner, hoping to cover up the fact that she hadn't actually remembered who the bartender was. Alex was looking between the two suspiciously, his hand still uncomfortably close to the gun, resting deceptively relaxed in his back pocket.

"Jesus, you two walk _fast_!" Casey exclaimed, slightly out of breath from jogging to catch up with the couple. She leaned on the low wall that ran along the edge of the road keeping tourists from falling into the fairly deep gap between the road and the walls of the Pantheon as she caught her breath. She readjusted her leather shoulder bag that was obscenely fashionable compared to Jude's knock-off Prada she had found at Wal-Mart for maybe twenty dollars. But, looking at the rest of Casey's outfit, the bag wasn't that out of place. Wearing dark skinny jeans, flats and a flattering blouse, she fit in perfectly, looking not in the least bit American. She topped it all off with a chocolate brown short trench coat that complimented her skin and hair color perfectly.

Deep down, Jude harbored a bitter loathing towards this perfect bartender and yet she wanted to be like her in every way.

"So," Casey continued, taking Jude's wrist and gently pulling her away from Alex, her voice lowering for some "girl talk". "Is that Alex?" She had a sort of lecherous grin on her face as she nudged Jude's arm, eyes widening in a suggesting way. "You never told me he was so hot." She seemed totally unfazed by what she was saying while Jude could feel her face burning and knew she was turning bright red. She knew that Alex could hear all this perfectly even though he seemed to be making a conscious effort to look extremely interested by a nearby peddler.

"Casey!" Jude hissed, leaning in closer so she wouldn't have to talk so loud. "He's the enemy, remember? An asshole!" Both girls snuck as glance in Alex's direction while he was looking the other way then turned back towards each other. "…even if he _does_ look like a model." She added reluctantly. Even after dealing with Alex for the last few days and knowing how frustrating he was, she still couldn't help the fact that he was unbelievably attractive. She was, after all, a teenage girl without a _real_ boyfriend.

"Ha! See?" Casey exclaimed triumphantly. "You _are_ attracted to him! I was right!" She pointed at Jude accusingly but had the biggest grin her face could possibly hold.

"You wish." Jude deadpanned but still had a definite red tint to her face. "I don't want anything to do with him. _You _take him!" She added then, suddenly realized that Casey might actually take her up on that offer, judging by the look on her face. But, much to Jude's relief, the bartender waved off the suggestion.

"Yeah, maybe if I were a few years younger!" She held up her left hand and waggled her fingers, making sure the expensive engagement ring caught the light and sparkled. "But I've got a man of my own." At Jude's shocked expression, her grin got even bigger, her face lighting up. Jude couldn't help but let her mouth drop open at the beautiful ring.

"Were you wearing that last night? How drunk _was_ I?" She asked, suddenly worried about what exactly happened at the bar. Then, she decided to continue to grill Casey about her fiancé, feeling at ease for the first time since she had arrived in Italy. Talking with Casey was like talking with an old friend and it was thrilling to see her so excited about her future husband.

"His name is Tony." She gushed then, with a wink, added "he's Italian." Out of the corner of her eye, Jude saw Alex roll his eyes as the two girls continued to squeal and laugh as Casey described her fiancé. "And don't worry, you weren't _that_ drunk. I don't wear my ring at the bar." She waved away Jude's worries with a flick of her wrist. But then, they returned tenfold as she turned to Alex.

"So, Double-O-Seven." She addressed him lightly, a grin on her face. "How goes the secret spy mission?"

* * *

Dang it! I almost made it to 5,000 Words! I got to 4,911.

Shucks! Oh well I figured I should end it there before I just keep rambling on forever.

Any mistakes are my own, so just point them out and I'll try not to make them next time. And again, thank ThJaFl because she's really quite amazing. Seriously. Worship her.

It was a long chapter, even though nothing really happened and it was a really lame cliffhanger, but I figured I should get it all out there…and I owed a longer chapter for making you wait for so long. SORRY!!

I know the part with Casey at the end wasn't really necessary, but I just wanted to show that Jude is, in fact, a teenage girl. We all get excited over hot guys…especially Alex Pettyfer. (Have you seen recent pictures of him? He looks HOT! And not just cute like when he was in Stormbreaker, he seriously looks like he's 25 or something. Nothing but chiseled chest and cheekbones! YES!)

Anyways, I'll try to get the damn next chapter up, but now I have to go do math homework as it is 12:24 in the morning and I have to get up for school tomorrow. I know, smart move right?

So, until next time, whenever that may be, Adios! Or, maybe Ciao is more appropriate…

Whatever, drop a line! (or more than one).

Saynt Jimmy!


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